


May Your Days Be Merry (And Bright)

by ken_ichijouji (dommific)



Series: Water park 'verse [14]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, water park verse-holiday fic, winter holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 14:55:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/711982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dommific/pseuds/ken_ichijouji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thanksgiving, Chanukah, Christmas, and New Year's on the Enterprise, told focusing on one couple at a time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	May Your Days Be Merry (And Bright)

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS NOT A CHRISTMAS FIC.
> 
> Christmas is IN this fic, but it is not solely a Christmas fic. It is a Winter Holidays fic for the eight main characters of the Water Park ‘verse. 
> 
> To break it down:  
> Spock/Uhura: Thanksgiving  
> Scotty/Chekov: Chanukah  
> Kirk/Bones: Christmas  
> Sulu/Chapel: New Year
> 
> The yam recipe is real. I made up the shit about Amanda being from Madison, as a special treat for someone. (<3 ) The Vulcan food comes from Memory Beta because the hell if I know anything Vulcans eat besides the plomeek soup that got mentioned that one time in TOS. For all I know, they graze like antelope*.
> 
> *Disclaimer: I don’t in fact think Vulcans graze like antelope. I’m being colorful. No hate mail about how I think Vulcans are animals. I don’t. It’s a joke. :)
> 
> The prayers said during Chanukah come from Wikipedia, ditto the information about how to play dreidel and the foods. I admit I’ve done way more Passover things than Chanukah. I did have the fic beta’ed for authenticity, thank you . She said Pavel’s more thorough than she is, and I was afraid I hadn’t been thorough _enough_ so I took that as a complement. 
> 
> …She beta’ed the whole thing, not just Chanukah. Sorry, that made it sound like she only did the one scene. 
> 
> Likewise, the postcard greetings and specifics about the Japanese New Year celebrations come from Wikipedia as well, and have also been checked for authenticity. lived there, so I think she knows what she’s talking about. 
> 
> Shout out to for the mention of getting salmonella from eggnog! Also, 2261 is in fact the year of the ox. Metal ox. Google it, I did, and it totally came up. Bless the Chinese for doing things 3000 years at a time.
> 
> I’m sorry it took me so long to write more in this ‘verse, but I wanted Jim and Bones to be married in this story, and then I wanted to get Phoenix done before this year was up. I hope you all enjoy this!

_Gobble, gobble_

It was November 20th when Nyota Uhura noticed it. “Spock?” she asked as they got ready for the day; he was on Beta shift but had risen early to meditate in the solace of their quarters.

“Yes?” Spock said as he washed his face.

“Why are you sad?” She brushed her hair into her customary high ponytail.

“I am contemplative,” Spock said, and Nyota favored him with a frown.

“Do you honestly think I wouldn’t know the difference?” Nyota reached out and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on the back of his shoulder. Spock’s hands came up from the counter and held her wrists. “Actually, you got like this around this time last year. I’d ask if it was the seasons and longer nights, but we’re in space.”

Not answering her, Spock turned off their faucet.

Nyota sighed. “Haven’t you learned about what happens when you don’t let me aid you? I’d like to help if I can.”

Spock didn’t quite sigh, but his shoulders relaxed. “You are correct. It is simply that this time of year reminds me of my mother.” His hands covered her smaller ones, and they held each other. “This was her favorite holiday, and it was one of the few human traditions she insisted I have as a child.”

Holiday?

Oh right.

“American Thanksgiving,” Nyota said. “It’s when? Two days from now?”

“Again, you are correct,” Spock said. “The fourth Thursday of the month of November. I would not be held out of school as Terran children are, but instead we would partake of a large feast tailored to Vulcan dietary customs.” Nyota peered over his shoulder to see his face in the mirror; Spock had a faraway look in his eyes. “She made one dish of which I was particularly fond called candied yams.”

“But no turkey,” Nyota said. “Tell me more about it, please. You speak so infrequently about your childhood.”

“As you surmised, we did not roast a turkey,” Spock said. “We instead had several large Vulcan dishes. The first course was my favorite, _plomeek_ soup. _Lirs_ was a side dish, along with Mother’s yams and one of Doctor McCoy’s favorites, macaroni and cheese. _Adronn feltara_ was the main dish. For dessert we had _saffir_ , as pumpkins were too difficult to import to Vulcan. I have had pumpkin pie at the Terran Thanksgivings I attended while at the Academy, and I found it to be most pleasing.”

Nyota nodded. “It is quite good,” she said. “I’ve been to a few Thanksgivings at Hikaru’s parents’ house. Gaila went with me. I don’t think I have ever eaten as much as I did on those days.”

“What did Gaila think?”

Smiling, Nyota remembered. “She was fascinated and moved by a holiday built around gratitude.”

Feeling the usual pang in her heart for her lost friend, Nyota sighed. She then felt a bigger pang for Spock. They lost so much that day. If only there was something she could do to bring back those happy memories.

Knowing that Spock couldn’t see her, Nyota raised an eyebrow.

Well, actually…while it would take a lot of work, and some conferring with Muriel, Nyota realized she could do that for him.

She’d also have to put in a call to Sarek.

“As much as I wish to continue this conversation, you will be late for your shift in two minutes,” Spock said.

“Oh my God,” Nyota said as she let go of her fiancé to finish putting up her hair. “Thank you, Spock.” With a quick kiss on the cheek, she ran out the door and to the bridge.

\-----

After her secret comm to Spock’s father, Nyota found herself in the mess kitchen looking over a recipe on a PADD.

She also had to admit she had no idea what the hell she was doing. “I have no idea what I’m doing,” she said out loud.

Muriel, who carried a large bag of sugar over one shoulder, came over to her. “What’s got you so confused?” she asked.

Nyota sighed. “Okay. It would help if I admitted that I don’t do this normally.”

Muriel glanced at the PADD. “Make candied yams?”

“Cook,” Nyota said. “I replicate everything. I always have.”

“So you’ve never tried it?” Muriel put the sugar down on the counter.

“Oh no, I’ve tried it,” Nyota said. “I didn’t do anything right. I end up putting too much salt in desserts or sugar in main courses. The one time I made _bhajias_ they came out gritty and the texture was just completely wrong.” She sighed. “I want to do this for Spock, but I’m a bit out of my depth.”

Muriel smiled at her. “It sounds like you overthink it when you cook. Some people get around being bad cooks by treating it like a science experiment, but I don’t think that’d work for you.” She leaned over and looked at the recipe a second time. “Cooking has its own language. Why not think of it that way and treat it as such?”

Nyota also looked at the recipe. What Muriel said made sense, she just had to think outside of the box a little. “How do I zest an orange? And where would I get bourbon?”

“I can answer that last question,” a familiar voice called from behind the two women. Nyota turned, and there stood Jim. He walked over to them. “What are you doing?”

“It’s Spock’s mother’s recipe,” Nyota explained. “I thought making this would be a nice gesture. Thanksgiving is one of the few human things he had while growing up.”

“I didn’t realize his mother was American,” Jim said as he, too, looked over the recipe.

“She was from Madison, Wisconsin,” Nyota explained. Jim scrolled down to the bottom of the page. “If you can cook, both of you can…”

“Nope. Nope. Nope. Nu-uh.” Jim shook his head and formed his hands into a T for _time out_. “I am absolutely not the person you want for this. You want my better half.”

Nyota and Muriel both raised their eyebrows. “I didn’t realize that Leonard can cook.”

“The ex-wife burns water trying to boil it, so it was either he learned, or they’d have had to live off carry out,” Jim said, again nosing through the recipe. “Turns out he really enjoys it. I’m amazed he’s never taken the mess over.”

“Probably because I’d gut him like a carp,” Muriel said. “No offense, but I’m only letting you do this because Spock’s down, and if there’s anything I can’t stand it’s a blue Vulcan.”

“None taken,” Nyota said. “Why are you here, Jim?”

“I came by to ask if you still planned on your Thanksgiving special for tonight,” he said to Muriel. “It took a lot to requisition all that turkey.”

“It’s on, the sugar bag’s for all the pies,” Muriel said with a shrug. “Which I need to get going if they’re all going to be ready in time. Nyota, just yell if you need help.” She picked up the bag and took off towards an industrial mixer.

“I’m sure I’ll be screaming for you momentarily,” Nyota said, her voice glum.

Jim wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You want me to call Bones, have him walk you through it?”

“If he doesn’t have anything else going on right now,” Nyota admitted. “And tell him to bring the bourbon.”

“No problem.” Jim stepped away with his comm. He talked into it for a second before rolling his eyes. “He wants to know why you need bourbon for yams.”

“It’s in the recipe,” Nyota said, not sure of how else to answer.

“Recipe calls for it,” Jim said into his communicator.

_I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that_ , came Leonard’s voice out of the device. _How much?_ Jim held the comm to her.

“Half of a cup,” Nyota said into it. “It also calls for orange zest, and I have no idea how to do that.”

_You just use a zester, Muriel should have one_ , Leonard continued. _It’s not hard, but it does involve elbow grease. I’m on my way._

“Love you too, pookie,” Jim said with a grin.

_Get out of the kitchen, Jim, before you set something on fire._ Jim threw his head back and laughed, and Nyota joined him. _McCoy out_.

“He sure has your number,” Nyota said as she began to clumsily peel the potatoes.

Jim picked up a peeler and a potato of his own. “This part I can handle.”

“You didn’t get into _that_ much trouble at the Academy,” Nyota said as her peeler got caught on one of the potato’s eyes.

“Oh no, I learned how in juvie,” Jim said. “They can’t exactly force kids to do actual hard labor.”

“That makes sense,” Nyota said. The door swung open, and in strode Leonard in a green V-necked t-shirt and jeans. Nyota frowned. “Oh, if I’m taking you away from your downtime…”

“It’s fine,” Leonard said as he held up a bottle of Knob Creek. “Now this is my special bourbon, but I figure if it’s for Spock this is allowed.” He set the bottle on the counter and leaned in to kiss Jim on the cheek. He also grabbed a peeler and went to town on one of the potatoes.

Between the three of them, it didn’t take long to have all eight of the sweet potatoes peeled and cut. With Leonard’s careful instructions and Jim’s color commentary, Nyota managed to put together the yams using all of the ingredients. Leonard stuck his finger in the sauce, and the expression on his face was that of approval. “Not bad. The bourbon adds a complexity that I’ve never had with this dish.” He picked up the PADD and looked at the recipe. “Send me this, will you?”

“Of course, it’s the least I can do,” Nyota said. “Thank you so much, both of you.”

Jim shrugged. “All I did was peel things.”

“Still, though,” Nyota said as she reached up. She kissed Jim on the cheek once and Leonard on both. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Leonard said as he grabbed his bourbon.

Nyota grabbed her dish, surprised at how heavy it was; it was manageable, however. Nyota smiled. “Thank you both again. You too, Muriel,” she called. The red-haired chef gave her a wave as she layered piecrust after piecrust with filling.

It would be a little while before Spock would be off his shift, but Nyota was eager to get back. She made her way to their quarters without incident, and she set the casserole dish plus two forks on their table. Eating straight from the dish would be fine this once. She lifted the lid off the yams, letting them cool.

Their front door slid open, and Spock entered. He raised an eyebrow. “I received a most cryptic message from the Captain requesting I end my shift early and return here,” Spock said as he walked over to her. Nyota smiled, spearing a piece of yam with a fork. She held it out to Spock, holding her other hand under it to keep the sauce from dripping on the carpet. Spock didn’t argue; he instead took a bite of the yam, and his eyes lit up. “Mother’s yams.”

“Your father gave me the recipe,” Nyota said. “Leonard, Jim, and Muriel helped.”

Spock swallowed, and his eyes were full of affection. Nyota’s heart skipped at the sight. “I would say thank you, but I feel that is inadequate to properly give my gratitude.”

“But it suffices,” Nyota said. “Your eyes have told me all I need to know.”

Spock wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. They kissed once, before he held her chair out for her. He then took the seat next to her, and they ate straight from the dish, talking for hours.

And in spite of her earlier musings of loss, Nyota found she had much to be thankful for.

 

_Ma’oz Tzur_

Down in the engineering wing, Scotty read on a PADD. Oblivious to the fact that his lips moved, his concentration didn’t waver as he tried to memorize the blessing. He hoped he pronounced it the right way; it was hard without having heard it before, and as this was a gift for someone special, he couldn’t really ask him about it.

“What’s got your attention so badly?” Keenser asked as he put a sensor panel back into place.

“I’m learning about Chanukah,” Scotty said. “I want to surprise Pavel. We had only just started dating during the High Holy Days, so I didn’t really know what I was doing then.”

Keenser nodded. “That’s the one that lasts eight days, right?”

“Yes,” Scotty said, finally taking his eyes off the PADD. “That’s how long the menorah burned in the temple, even though they only had enough fuel for one day. Each night a candle’s lit and blessings are said to commemorate the event.”

Tightening a screw on the panel, Keenser raised an eyebrow. “Is that why certain crew members like Muriel get their fire alarms disconnected around this time? So they can celebrate this festival without triggering an alert?”

Scotty nodded. “I’m not really supposed to do that; if Starfleet HQ finds out about it, it’ll be my head on a platter, but yes, I do it for the Jewish crew members. It’s no different to me than lighting up the whole place for Diwali. I also ran it by the captain last year, and he gave me the go-ahead.” Scotty looked thoughtful. “That reminds me, I need to get with Muriel about the food. It starts tomorrow at 1700, since we don’t have a sunset in space.” He watched Keenser work for a second. “Do you have that?”

“Yeah,” Keenser said with a grunt as he finished tightening the screw. He moved on to the next one. “If you need to go talk to Muriel, go ahead. Richards and I can take care of this.”

Scotty looked at Keenser, before looking down the wing to the next station. Richards stood at a control panel; she glanced up at Scotty and smiled, waving him ahead. “Thanks,” Scotty said as he strode up the stairs. “It’ll only take me a few minutes. I’ll be back in less than a half an hour.”

“Sure,” Keenser and Richards said in unison. Neither of them looked up from their work.

Scotty walked from the engineering wing up to the mess hall to confer with Muriel; the sight that greeted him in the doorway made him snort. The captain held something above Doctor McCoy’s head as they made out right in the middle of the doorframe. “Ahem,” Scotty said. They didn’t hear him. “Captain,” Scotty tried again.

The second time worked because they broke apart, and both of them blushed. “Hey Scotty, we were just checking.”

Scotty rolled his eyes. “Checking what? That you still have your tonsils?”

McCoy cleared his throat. “Checking to make sure this is what Jim claimed,” he said with a point to the captain’s hand. In it was a sprig of a green leaves with white berries.

“Just some decorations for the ship,” Kirk said with his eyes twinkling. “Bones and I made sure it is authentic.”

Scotty shook his head a few times with a grin. “Any excuse, eh?” They didn’t speak, but the expressions of fake innocence on their faces said all Scotty needed to know. “Well, gentlemen, I have a pressing business matter to attend to with Lieutenant-Commander Horowitz.”

McCoy furrowed his brows. Before he could ask, Kirk nudged him with his shoulder. “Muriel,” he said.

“Oh, you know I never got her last name,” McCoy said with a shrug. “She just introduced herself to me as Muriel.”

Kirk smiled at him, shaking his head. “And you being you never thought to ask what her rank or last name was.” McCoy had the decency to flush a second time, as his husband slid an arm around his waist. “Is this about something for Chekov?”

Scotty nodded with a surprised look on his face. “I wouldn’t think you would know.”

“I keep track of everything,” Kirk said. “Knowing about the days my crew celebrates is good for morale. More to the point, if it’s important to them, it’s important to me. We did the first night with Chekov last year, actually.”

“He mentioned that,” Scotty said. “It meant a lot to him.”

Kirk and McCoy both smiled. “Well, don’t let us keep you. Go get with Muriel.” Scotty brushed past them with a wave, and as he entered the mess he heard Kirk say, “We need to double-check this. To be thorough, I mean.” The door closed, cutting off McCoy’s reply as Scotty made his way to the kitchen to talk to the Enterprise’s head chef.

Muriel stood over a counter, shredding a potato. “Hello, Scotty,” she said.

“Hi, Muriel,” Scotty said. “I just wanted to see if you have time for what we talked about last week.”

“Yeah, I haven’t forgotten,” Muriel said. “A dozen of them, right? And you want powdered sugar with strawberry jam?”

“Yes, that’s Pavel’s favorite,” Scotty said. “I can get the _latkes_ from the mess when you serve them with lunch, but the _sufganiyot_ I’ll pick up just before sundown if that’s all right.”

“That’s perfect,” Muriel said, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. “Was there anything else you needed?”

“No, lass,” Scotty said. “Remember, mum’s the word around Pavel.”

“I won’t tell,” Muriel said, having finished shredding the potato. She picked up another one and gave it the same treatment. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” Scotty said as he left the kitchen. No big surprise, but the captain and the doctor still stood kissing in front of the door; this time they were out of the way, though, and Scotty was able to maneuver past them without interrupting their “mistletoe check.”

Scotty also hoped they’d put it up all over the ship because he didn’t mind the thought of engaging in similar “checks” with Pavel.

\-----

The next day flew by, and Scotty picked up the _sufganiyot_ from Muriel. He wore a red dress shirt and black slacks, and as he made his way to the quarters Pavel shared with Sulu he had butterflies in his stomach. He again hoped his pronunciation was not too poor as he rang the entry bell for the rooms.

Pavel didn’t bother with the intercom, electing instead to open the door. Scotty made his way inside; the rooms were dim, but not completely dark, and Pavel stood by his desk that held the _menorah_ and candles. Pavel wore a blue sweater and jeans, and his _yarmulke_ sat on his head. “Hello, Scotty,” he said as they kissed. He gestured to the box under Scotty’s arm. “What is this?”

“Later,” Scotty said as he put the box down on Pavel’s coffee table. “It’s just about time.”

Checking the chronometer on the wall, Pavel’s eyes widened. “It is! Come this way.” He pulled Scotty by the hands over to the _menorah_. “First, we light the _shamash_ …”

Pavel took his lighter and lit the tallest candle on the top row. He began to speak, Scotty joining in to his surprise and delight. “ _Barukh atah Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha'olam, asher qiddeshanu b'mitzvotav v'tzivanu lehadliq ner shel Hanukkah_.” The candle glowed in the dimness of the room. Pavel gently took it out of the holder and used it to light the first candle all the way to the right of the longer, lower row. “ _Barukh atah Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha'olam, she'asa nisim la'avoteinu ba'yamim ha'heim ba'z'man ha'ze._ ”

The candle was lit, and they stepped back from it. It was time for the _Shehehiyanu_ , which Pavel called joyful. Translated, it thanked God for sustaining them and allowing them to reach the season. It was said at every holiday, and it was a very important part of the evening. 

“ _Barukh atah Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha'olam, she'hehiyanu v'kiy'manu v'higi'anu la‑z'man ha‑ze._ ” Pavel held out his right hand, and Scotty took it. They stood, watching the lights flicker in the darkness of the room. “Now for the _Hanerot Halalu_.”

Scotty cleared his throat. Again, they spoke together. “ _Hanneirot hallalu anachnu madlikin 'al hannissim ve'al hanniflaot 'al hatteshu'ot ve'al hammilchamot she'asita laavoteinu bayyamim haheim, ubazzeman hazeh 'al yedei kohanekha hakkedoshim. Vekhol-shemonat yemei Hanukkah hanneirot hallalu kodesh heim, ve-ein lanu reshut lehishtammesh baheim ella lir'otam bilvad kedei lehodot ul'halleil leshimcha haggadol 'al nissekha ve'al nifleotekha ve'al yeshu'otekha._ ” The hymn hung in the air, as Scotty contemplated the power of hope that lit a temple for eight days.

Pavel squeezed his hand. “And now, the _Ma’oz Tzur_.”

Scotty winced; this was the part he dreaded. Singing never was his strong suit, and singing in Hebrew was even more horrifying. But it was for Pavel, so he’d sing it to the entire ship if it would make him happy. Together they sang all six stanzas of the song, Pavel’s rich tenor melding with Scotty’s baritone.

Once they finished, Scotty turned to Pavel. “And we do this every night?”

“Well,” Pavel said. “In my family, we normally just say the blessings and then eat dinner. But since this is your first Chanukah, we are doing a more traditional night. Tomorrow will be more relaxed.” He let go of Scotty’s hand, instead pulling him into a hug. “Thank you, Scotty.”

“Of course, love,” Scotty whispered. They held each other until the candles burned out. Scotty pulled back from Pavel with a grin. “Lights,” he called, and they came up. They blinked for a second as their eyes adjusted. Scotty grabbed the box from the coffee table. “Here.”

Pavel raised an eyebrow and opened the box; when he saw the _sufganiyot_ , his eyes lit up, and he grinned. “I have not had these since I entered Starfleet Academy,” he said as he pulled one out of the box. “I could never find them in San Francisco. Had to settle for regular doughnuts.” He handed a second one to Scotty.

They each took a bite, Scotty putting his hand underneath his to prevent the jam from falling out. They ate their treats in silence. Once they finished, Pavel went back over to his desk and pulled out a small wooden something and a bag of gold coins.

“Children normally do this,” Pavel said as he sat on the floor. Scotty sat across from him, and he saw that the wooden thing was a _dreidel_. “As it is your first Chanukah, we can make exception.”

“First of many,” Scotty said as he took the _dreidel_. Pavel divided up the _gelt_ between them with a pleased flush on his cheeks. They each put some of their _gelt_ into a pot. Scotty spun the _dreidel_ , and it landed on _gimel_. “What does that mean?”

Pavel huffed. “It means you get everything.”

“Really?” Scotty took the coins. “This game is excellent!”

Pavel rolled his eyes before putting more of the coins in the pot, Scotty following suit. On Pavel’s turn, the _dreidel_ landed on _hei_ , so he took half the pot. They played for a little while, although beginner’s luck was on Scotty’s side.

Pavel had won the entire pot on a round when Hikaru came home from his shift. “What are you doing?” he asked as he walked over to them.

“Playing _dreidel_ ,” Scotty answered. “Join us.”

Pavel handed Hikaru some of his coins. “Thanks,” Hikaru said as Scotty also shared his winnings with him. “So I just spin this and whatever letter is on top is what I do, right? You’ll have to remind me what the letters mean.”

Scotty looked at Hikaru with a curious expression. “How come you’ve done this before?”

Hikaru smiled. “Janice is one of my best friends, and when we dated, I went to the first night of Chanukah at her family’s house. It was fun.” He looked at his roommate. “Sorry I missed the _menorah_.”

“It is fine,” Pavel said with a smile. He then grew more serious. “Now it is time for my superior _dreidel_ skills.”

Scotty raised an eyebrow. “I was beating you.”

Scoffing, Pavel shook his head. “Beginner’s luck, and nothing more. I will win.”

“I think both of you better watch out,” Hikaru said. “I was pretty great at this the one time I did it.”

“Also beginner’s luck,” Pavel said. “I have twenty years of experience. Neither of you will win.”

“We’ll just see about that,” Scotty said as he went to take a turn. In spite of all the trash talking, and the fact that Pavel did indeed take them to the cleaners, laughter flowed throughout the room. Pavel was kind and gave them each some of the _gelt_. They split the rest of the _sufganiyot_ along with Muriel’s _latkes_ , and they unwrapped and ate the chocolate _gelt_.

Scotty stayed over that night, and as he drifted off he realized he would indeed have many more Chanukahs with Pavel.

 

_Santa’s Big Scene_

It couldn’t have been later than four in the morning when Leonard McCoy woke, somewhat disoriented, in the bed he shared with his husband. He blinked in the darkness a few times as he lay on his side. Something was off, he was sure of it. He just didn’t know what.  
Without turning to look, he reached a hand behind him to his Jim. He didn’t feel anything, though, except for the fabric of the sheets. He turned so that he laid on his other side facing Jim.

Or rather, he would be facing Jim were Jim still in bed.

“Huh,” he said out loud. That explained the feeling that something wasn’t right; they had fallen asleep with Jim holding him from behind. Now he was missing. Bones shook his head, as he sounded paranoid. Jim probably went to the bathroom and he’d be back any second. He settled back down into position and closed his eyes.

After approximately twenty minutes, Bones sat up. “Lights,” he called and the room’s lights filled the air. He got out of bed, running a hand through his hair as he did so. “Jim,” he called towards the living room.

No answer.

He walked past their bathroom, which was empty, and out into the living and dining area. There was no Jim anywhere in their quarters.

That was definitely odd.

For one thing, Jim _never_ got up before he did. He wasn’t an early riser by any stretch of the imagination, let alone getting up in the middle of the night. He went over to the computer console mounted in the wall by their front door.

“Computer, locate crew member Kirk, James T.”

**_Searching...located: Holodeck, deck five._ **

Bones furrowed his brows. Why would Jim be in the Holodeck at this time of night?

There was only one way to find out, he supposed.

Taking a quick detour back into their bedroom to put on his slippers, Bones left their quarters. He took the next turbo lift and headed down to the deck in question, still confused by what Jim could be doing.

After reaching his destination, he went to open the door, but it was locked with one of Jim’s overrides. Shaking his head, Bones unlocked it using one of the medical overrides and stepped inside. After thinking for a moment, he turned and relocked it using Jim’s code. Whatever he was doing, he obviously didn’t want anyone to walk in on it. Best to respect that.

He looked ahead to the main area of the deck, and he could make out Jim’s silhouette in the darkness. Jim whispered something to the computer, too quiet for him to hear. “What are you doing?” Bones asked as he walked toward him.

Jim turned, and even in the dark, Bones could see his eyes twinkle. “I knew you’d come find me,” was the only answer Jim gave as he smiled. “It’s almost ready.”

Bones raised an eyebrow. “What is?”

Jim shook his head. “You’ll see.” He turned his attention back to the room. “Computer, bring up lights and simulation _Kirk and Bones alpha-four_.”

Kirk and Bones alpha-four? Bones wasn’t familiar with that one, and he raised both eyebrows as the lights came up and the room shimmered into the simulation.

What he saw made his jaw drop.

They stood in a field by a small river with two horses grazing near by. The land stretched for miles, and Bones knew no one else would find them. They were half in shade from a great weeping willow, and the hot Georgia sun beat down on their faces.

It was Bones’ favorite spot on his uncle’s horse farm, the spot he had always run to as a child and when things got rough with Jocelyn.

“I know I’ve only been here twice, so it may not all be right,” Jim said apologetically as he shielded his eyes from the light. “My memory’s pretty good, but it’s not…”

“It’s perfect,” Bones said, spinning in a circle to take it all in. “All the details…it’s perfect.”

Jim’s shoulders became less stiff at this. “Oh. Good.” He shrugged. “I bought you something, too, just in case you hated it.”

Bones turned and faced him. “How on Earth could I hate this?” Shifting from one foot to the other, Jim didn’t say anything. Bones closed the distance between them and pulled Jim into his arms. “There is nothing about this for me to not love, Jim.”

“No, it’s dumb,” Jim said. “I knew logically you’d like this, but I got scared that you wouldn’t, like you’d think I was trying to make you homesick or something.” 

“I would never think that,” Bones said. “I know you better than that, Jim. I know you know that.”

Jim brought his arms up and held Bones. He laid his head on his shoulder. “I don’t know…I don’t really care what other people think of me. You’re the only person that makes me nervous.”

Bones sighed. “I really shouldn’t be.”

“Yeah, but you are,” Jim said as Bones slid a hand up the back of his shirt to caress his skin. “I dunno. I guess I’m just dumb sometimes.”

“There are many things you are Jim; dumb is never one of them.” Bones pulled back to look Jim in the eye. “I think at this point you could set me on fire, and I’d be happy with it.”

Jim snorted. “I’d think that’d be grounds for divorce if there ever were any.”

“You know what I’m getting at,” Bones said. “Short of actual malevolence, there’s nothing you do that I’m not a fan of. And I _am_ your biggest fan, Jim. I always have been.”

Again, Jim stood silent, but this time it had a different quality to it. He shifted so that once more his head rested on Bones’ shoulder, and Bones hummed with approval. After they did this for a while, Bones pulled back and grabbed Jim’s hands, towing him to sit under the willow tree.

Bones propped his back up against the tree as Jim sat in between his legs with his back to him. Horses grazed near them, and Bones realized they were Desmond and Molly, the horses he and Jim always rode when they would be on the farm together. “You really did think of everything.”

Jim shrugged. “Well, I did think about making a Jo, but I thought that would be more creepy than awesome.”

Bones nodded. “Yeah. I’d probably be unnerved by that.”

Jim snuggled in close to Bones, resting his head on his chest. “I’m really glad you like it.”

“I should actually be mad at you because now my gift pales in comparison,” Bones said as he ran a hand down Jim’s arm.

“As long as it’s not socks.”

“I bought you all of the socks,” Bones said. Jim looked up at him with a baleful expression. “Why are you taking me seriously? I never buy you socks. I hate practical gift-giving.”

Jim shrugged. “I wouldn’t put it past you to give me socks to sucker me into thinking you were an asshole, and then giving me something else after I start yelling at you.”

“You would definitely yell at me for that,” Bones said. “And it would be justified. That’s a level of dickery I’m not really committed to, though.”

“Nah, that’s too much effort,” Jim said. “What did you get me?”

Bones looked down at him. “Maybe I want to see your face as you open it.” Jim shifted so he looked Bones directly in the eye, and his eyes were wide as saucers. His bottom lip stuck out a little, and Bones cursed under his breath. “I really fucking hate it when you look at me like that. I never win against that look.”

Like a switch was thrown, Jim’s expression changed to one that was smug.

Bones sighed. “Remember that antique store we went to with Jo back on our honeymoon?”

Jim nodded. “Yeah. There was that beautiful watch that I…” His eyes widened. “You didn’t.”  
Bones didn’t say anything.

“Bones. Tell me you didn’t spend that much money.”

Bones whistled.

Jim shoved Bones in the chest. “You’re an asshole. I can’t believe you!”

Now Bones looked surprised. “You loved it.”

“Yeah but…but…” Jim’s words faltered. “I mean, Bones. _Bones_.”

“You’re welcome,” Bones said with a smile.

Jim threw his arms around him, knocking him back into the tree. Without another word, Jim pressed his lips to his in a deep, loving kiss. Bones smiled into it, wrapping his arms around him tight. The kiss lasted for a long time, and when it ended Jim’s eyes sparkled.

“I locked the door,” Bones said. “When I came in, I mean.”

Jim lowered his eyes and bit his bottom lip. “Oh yeah?”

Bones leaned forward and kissed him a second time. “Yeah.” They kissed again, and Bones slid both of his hands up the back of Jim’s shirt. Jim made a pleased noise as he straddled Bones’ lap. His hands cupping Bones’ face, Jim broke the kiss and panted. Bones slid a hand down to Jim’s right thigh. 

Jim raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to get me going?”

“Who straddled whose lap?” Bones looked up at him with a smirk.

Jim grumbled. “I wasn’t complaining, but fair enough.” Jim shifted so he rested his chin on Bones’ shoulder. Bones brought his hands to rest at Jim’s waist. They sat together, cuddled up under the Georgia sun. “We owe Scotty and Chekov a big thank you.”

Bones looked up into Jim’s eyes. “They helped?” 

“Yeah,” Jim said. “Scotty got me access to the protocols, because mine weren’t good enough to do a simulation on this scale. Chekov just was bored that day, although I think he is going to copy me and do something similar for Scotty.”

“You might have to start making rules about people having sex in here,” Bones said.

Jim pulled back from him. “Then _we_ can’t have sex in here.” Jim shifted on Bones’ lap, which made Bones groan a little. “Which since you locked the door, we should totally do.”

“I didn’t bring any lube,” Bones said as Jim ran his tongue over his ear. 

“We can do other things,” Jim said as he moved against Bones again and again. “I don’t think I could wait for lube.”

Bones grabbed Jim and pulled them so they rested on Jim’s back with Bones in between his legs. He reached between them, pulling down their sleep pants and underwear. Both of them were already hard, and their cocks rubbed together, slick with precome. Jim cried out, wrapping his legs around Bones’ waist. 

“You wanted this didn’t you?” Bones said as he shifted his body into Jim’s. “Both of the times we came to this spot, you wanted this.”

“Might’ve crossed my mind once or twice,” Jim said on the edge of a gasp. “First time I was too lovesick, really, but the second time…yeah.” Bones propped himself up on his forearms as he moved so that their cocks slid together. Jim closed his eyes, crying out with every caress of their skin. “Oh, fuck,” he said in between panted breaths. 

Bones leaned down, biting at Jim’s bottom lip. Jim gasped, and when he opened his mouth, Bones took advantage to slide his tongue inside. His movements became more frantic as their orgasms built to a crescendo. Jim toppled over the edge first, Bones following a moment after. 

Jim clutched Bones’ shoulders as he trembled; Bones smiled down at him, pressing a more gentle kiss to his mouth. Mewling, Jim returned the kiss. Bones rolled off him, lying next to him on his back. 

“Oh,” Jim said, looking down at his shirt; there were two large come stains on it. “Gross.”

“Just take it off and walk back shirtless,” Bones said as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“Oh right because that won’t make it totally obvious, what we were doing in here I mean,” Jim said as he reached out a hand and pushed Bones.

Bones pushed back. “I think it’s better than the captain looking like one of those _bukkake_ videos you think I never knew you watched.”

“I knew you knew,” Jim said. “But you didn’t know I knew you also enjoyed them.”

Bones opened his mouth before closing it. “I hate you.”

Jim smirked. “Nah.”

Bones let out a frustrated sigh. “You’re right. I don’t; I never could.” He let go from where he pushed against Jim’s arm to hold his hand. Jim slid his fingers in between Bones’, lacing their hands together. They lay together like that for a while before heading back to their quarters. 

And really, the look on Jim’s face when he opened the watch was the only gift Bones ever needed.

 

_Oshougatsu_

Hikaru sat at his desk, shaking out the writer’s cramp in his right hand.

Fortunately, he had the presence of mind to send cards to Earth from the last starbase. He timed it enough that they should arrive on the first. Now he had to do the postcards for his friends in space. Leonard and Jim, and Spock and Nyota, got joint cards that said _akemashite o-medetō-gozaimasu_. He considered doing a joint card for Pavel and Scotty, but their relationship was new enough it felt premature. Instead they each got their own card with the same greeting as the couples’. The guys like Riley got cards that simply said _oshougatsu_ on them, because they were bros and didn’t care for flowery demonstrations. 

Christine’s card was special. It was red, and it was the only one to say _kotoshi mo yoroshiku o-negai-shimasu_.

The door opened, and Pavel came in with a smile. “Hikaru, I…oh.”

“Hey Pavel,” Hikaru said as he stamped Christine’s card. “What’s up?”

“You did this last year, too, yes?” Pavel picked up Spock and Nyota’s card. It had an image of an ox on it. “The postcards?”

“I do it every year,” Hikaru said. “My family is very American in some ways, but not about New Year’s.”

Pavel picked up his card. “I can just…”

“No, you don’t,” Hikaru said, gesturing for him to give it back. “On the first.” Rolling his eyes, Pavel handed him the card. “Hey, I saw that. I don’t give you crap about your culture. Lay off mine.”

Pavel winced. “I am sorry, Hikaru. I did not intend to do such a thing. I just do not understand this tradition.” He sat backwards in a chair. “Explain it to me so I do understand it.”

Hikaru smiled. “It’s pretty simple really; you mail the postcards out to your friends and relatives to wish them a happy new year, and it brings them good tidings. The only time you don’t send a card to someone is if someone in their family died during the year. You don’t have to keep track, though; they send out special cards called _mochu hagaki_ to let you know not to include them.”

“Your postcards have pictures of oxen on them,” Pavel said. “What is the significance?”

“2261 is the year of the Ox,” Hikaru said. “So sending people a postcard with a picture of the year’s animal is extra good luck.”

“Christine’s has no Ox,” Pavel said with a sly smile. “Hers is fancier, too.”

“Shut up,” Hikaru said without looking up.

“What is the expression? Oh yes…I am just saying.” Pavel shrugged. “Are you going to Captain’s party tomorrow?”

“You really need to get over that and just call him Jim like the rest of us do,” Hikaru said.

“I am still a lowly ensign, when I become a lieutenant like you I will change,” Pavel explained.

It was Hikaru’s turn to roll his eyes. “You’re the Tactics Officer and Chief Navigator of the Federation flagship. You can call the captain Jim.”

“I will ask his permission,” Pavel said. “You have not answered my question.”

“Yeah, I’m going,” Hikaru said. “Only for a little while, though. I have to duck out at midnight.”

“Ah right, I had forgotten,” Pavel said. “Will Christine be with you? Or…?”

“It’s up to her,” Hikaru answered with a shrug. “It’s my tradition; I’m not forcing it on her. If she wants to join me, well, I won’t pretend that it won’t make me incredibly happy. But if she wants to stay at the party, she can do that too.”

Nodding, Pavel smiled for a second. “I am still afraid of her.”

“She’s gotten over it like I have,” Hikaru said. “Actually, she got over it before me. But yeah, I’d never try anything like that again if you want your heart to stay inside your body and not be fed to you.”

Pavel winced, electing to change the subject. “Scotty is wearing a kilt tomorrow and has been making the eggnog for the party.”

“I thought Kirk somehow got Starfleet to agree to requisitioning champagne,” Hikaru said, genuinely interested.

“That is for toast at midnight,” Pavel said. “Eggnog is for drinking during.”

“I’ll be steering clear of it,” Hikaru said with a wince. “I got drunk off it once, and it ended really badly.”

Both of Pavel’s eyebrows rose. “Define ‘really badly’.”

“Remember my birthday party? The one I had at Fallout where we all yelled at Kirk to do something about McCoy?” Pavel blinked. “Like that, but with projectile vomiting.” Hikaru sat silent for a minute. “Come to think of it, that might have been salmonella poisoning, which is double the reason to stay away.”

“I am certain McCoy will have hyposprays just in case.” Pavel stood and stretched. “I will let you get back to your cards. I look forward to getting mine on the first.” With a wave, he took off towards his room. Hikaru heard Pavel’s _happy_ playlist start as he finished up his cards.

He reminded himself to set out his clothes so they wouldn’t be so wrinkled.

\-----

The party was well underway by the time Hikaru arrived; he’d been on delta shift that day, and getting dressed in his _haori_ and _hakama_ always took a bit of time. He opened the banquet hall doors, stepping inside the room. It had been decorated, with silver and red glittery streamers everywhere. A large red and white banner with the numbers _2261_ sat above the table where Lieutenant Richards and Keenser had their deejay equipment.

Hikaru checked his watch; it was 23:35. He had barely enough time to find his girlfriend and dance once with her before he had to take off. Scanning the crowd, he saw Jim and Leonard talking close together with drinks. He also noticed Spock and Nyota dancing, Pavel and Scotty not too far away from them, and Pavel hadn’t been joking about the kilt.

It didn’t take long for him to spot his girlfriend, and what he saw took his breath away.

Instead of a gown like Nyota wore, Christine was clad in a silver _kimono_ embroidered with purple and pink gingko leaves. Her _obi_ was purple, and she wore tabi socks and _getas_. Her hair was up in an elaborate style, with three flowers pinned to the side. He walked over to her, and when she noticed him her eyes lit up.

“Hikaru,” she said, looking at his green, gold, and black _kimono_ with black _hakama_. He, too, wore tabi socks and _getas_. “You look handsome,” she continued as she kissed him on the cheek.

“You look beautiful,” he said. “How did you keep this a secret from me?” Christine gave him a pointed look, causing him to laugh. “Oh right. Forget I even asked. Care for a dance?”

“Of course,” she said as she let him steer her to the dance floor. He held her lightly around her waist as she placed her hands on his shoulders; just in time, as the music changed to a slow, romantic song Nyota would sing sometimes. They danced together, her cheek resting against his.

“You really didn’t have to do this,” Hikaru said as he steered them around the floor.

“Do you really think I’d let you do this alone?” Christine pulled back to look him in the eye.

“I’m not really alone, there are other Japanese crew members,” Hikaru said.

Christine gave him a _look_. “We both know that’s not how I mean the word ‘alone’.”

Hikaru was silent for a while. “I just didn’t want to force anything on you. We both have different traditions, and that’s a good thing.”

It was Christine’s turn to be silent. “Well…maybe I want your traditions to become mine.”

Flushing, Hikaru stopped their movement across the floor. “That…kind of implies a permanence to our relationship that I…well, I can’t say I’ve not thought of it, because I have, quite a bit. All the time. But I didn’t think you wanted that…at least, not yet. So…” He ran his hand through his hair. “Am I asking you to marry me?”

Christine’s eyes widened. “I…don’t know. Are you?”

Before he even realized he did it, he dropped down to one knee. Fortunately for him, everyone else was so wrapped up in their significant others, they didn’t stare at him. “I think I just decided that I am, in fact, asking you to marry me.” He reached up and took her left hand in his. “So…what do you say, Agent Sistene?”

Her eyes looking suspiciously bright, she nodded a few times. “Yes. It might get us both killed, but yes.” Hikaru grinned and stood; just in time, because he was able to register people counting down behind him.

“5...4…3…2…1… _Happy New Year_!” The crowd exclaimed as they raised their glasses to welcome in the New Year. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Christine pulled him down into a celebratory kiss. They stayed together until breathing became a necessity, and when they parted, Hikaru saw Jim and Leonard applaud them. He waved at them, and Leonard raised his glass to him.

Christine took Hikaru’s hand in hers. “And this is when you go to temple, right?”

“It’s just the ship’s chapel, but it’s close enough,” he said as he pulled her out of the party and to a turbo lift. The incredible noise followed them for a long way down the hall, and when they got behind closed doors he kissed her a second time. It was a short ride to the level with the chapel, and they stepped off it, giggling like children as they raced towards the room.

Lieutenant Watanabe and Commander Takahashi were already present, and several more Japanese crew members filtered in after Hikaru and Christine. Christine gave him an expectant look. “So what do we do now?”

“We line up,” Hikaru said as a queue formed in front of the altar. “When it’s our turn, we make wishes for the New Year. If this were a real temple, we’d buy _omikuji_ , read their predictions, and tie them to the trees if they’re bad so they hopefully won’t come true.”

“I see,” Christine said. “So we just make wishes then.”

“Well, after,” Hikaru said. “The bell has to be rung 108 times. It symbolizes the 108 human sins in Buddhism, and the Japanese believe it can basically rid us of our sins from the previous year.” He pointed to a table set up in the chapel, which held covered bowls and trays. “Then we eat soba noodles. I think Muriel threw in _mochi_ this year too; you’ll like that.”

“I’ve had it,” Christine said. “I did a lot of exploring in San Francisco.”

“Oh great,” Hikaru said with a smile. “Sorry, I just assumed.”

“It’s fine, I didn’t know anything else about this,” Christine said with a smile. 

Commander Takahashi, as the closest thing the _Enterprise_ had to a Buddhist monk, rang the bell. Everyone sat and listened as it rung exactly 108 times. Then one by one, each person went to the altar and made their wishes for the coming year.

Hikaru thought of an old saying his mother taught him, that how someone rung in the New Year is how a person would end up spending the year. So according to tradition, if the clock struck midnight while a person was alone, then he or she would spend the year alone.

Hikaru proposed at midnight, which meant he’d spend the year happy and in love with Christine. He was also surrounded by his friends. He could wish for nothing better, so when it was his turn, he didn’t. He simply wished for as good of a 2261 as a 2260.

As Christine twined their fingers together, he realized he didn’t need to wish for it to happen.

It would be.


End file.
